Normally, while walking in a semiconscious daze through the first part of Mercune’s dream, Proto tried to work out any last kinks in his plans.

  Today, though, on his last practice-visit to the dream, Proto found himself thinking about other things—specifically, his friends, and the fact that the end of the world was nigh.

  He’d never really put two and two together and pondered how the latter might affect the former.

  To be sure, “end of the world” was an exaggeration. The planet wasn’t being annihilated. Civilization was just coming to a fiery, ruinous conclusion, courtesy of the newly awoken Elements.

  Just the same, probably not good news for his friends!

  Of course, Yemos, Ausrine and Mannus would be fine, relatively speaking. They’d weather the firestorm inside the World Rood—that hollow tree with the Viking axe. Then, according to Mercune’s vision, they’d shelter peacefully in some garden, as violent chaos claimed the world outside.

  As for Mercune, she’d survive the pyroclasm in Dubai with Fyrir—for a while, at least. After all, Proto had visited the old man’s dream after the pandaemonium had broken out. And the whole point of Fyrir’s dream had been to find and protect Mercune, which suggested she’d still been alive.

  But what about his other friends? Could he try to keep them safe? How? What safe place could he direct them to, when the whole world would be aflame?

  The World Rood would be safe. But sending them there would risk disrupting events involving Yemos, Mannus and Ausrine, which apparently were vital for the future.

  Fyrir’s lab in Dubai, Wraithing Research Center, also seemed relatively safe. But Proto couldn’t very well call up his friends and tell them to fly to Dubai in two years and shelter in a research lab.

  Somehow, Proto had survived the pandaemonium too, in his comatose state. He wasn’t quite sure how or where he’d survived. Frustratingly, it felt like he’d once known more about this. But he couldn’t seem to summon up the memory anymore.

  This forgetfulness was vexing Proto at the moment he leapt through the Mists, entering the part of Mercune’s dream where he was fully in control.

  Then, abruptly, he remembered everything, the way he always did at this point. And then he knew what he’d forgotten: “So . . . they put you into cryogenic hibernation,” winced Somnus with a smile.

  Cryogenics! Right. After he got hit by the car, the doctors would put him in cryogenic hibernation.

  As usual, this felt like a cool little sci-fi quirk in his alternate-world-fantasy life. What was new was that, now, he knew exactly where he’d be while he was frozen.

  The memory played out in his recollection: He looked out the window at the road signs: “Sonic: 0.2 mi.” “Exxon: 0.3 mi.” “Atlean University Greenhouse: 1.7 mi.” “Motel 6: 2.0 mi.” “Atlean University Cryogenics Facility: 2.9 mi.”

  The Atlean University Cryogenics Facility. It had to be that, right?

  I mean, we’re a town that talks about a cosplay convention “putting us on the map.” How many cryogenics facilities could we possibly have?

  So, now he knew at least one relatively safe place where his friends could go.

  The problem was, he’d forget it as soon as he woke up, the way he always did. He’d learnt about his cryogenic hibernation in one of the Possibilities he’d experienced—the one where he’d chosen to return to the breathing world, and Somnus had led him there. Proto always forgot what happened in all the Possibilities as soon as he woke up.

  Maybe he could just ingrain on his mind that the cryogenics facility was a safe place. Not the whys and hows of it. Just a simple equation: Atlean University Cryogenics Facility = Safe Place. Then, maybe he’d remember it when he woke up, and maybe he could get his friends to stay there safely on the day the Elements woke.

  This was a lot of maybes.

  Further, that left an even bigger problem. He’d accelerated the world’s end by about 700 years just by mentioning Fyrir’s cosplay convention to Red and Ausrine, and he’d only barely managed to steer the future back onto the right Fate Road. His error had been divulging his future knowledge.

  And yet that’s exactly what he was contemplating now. What if, by urging his friends and family to come to the Atlean University Cryogenics Facility, he caused the future to veer off-course again? It’d be awfully tragic if he managed to steer Mercune in the right direction—only to have the world end anyway, because he’d selfishly tried to save those lucky enough to be his personal friends. As much as he wanted to help Red, Black, Helen, Himari, Shirley, Aston, Chub and Jakeson, even Reks and Stang, he wouldn’t sacrifice the world’s future to do so.

  “You . . . ” Mercune was saying. Her green gaze had the blazing sheen of starlight.

  He knew he should be focusing on her, and he started to do so. But an abrupt memory broke his concentration:

  “I’ve seen a thousand variations of your time at Somnus’ Palace. You save the world in all of them. But the way the future plays out afterward varies. And, after studying this closely, I’ve realized that there’s only one point, in your time at Somnus’ Palace, where your choices seem to change how the world’s long-term future plays out.”

  “And, no, it’s not what you’re thinking! Your choice at the end is yours to make, based on true love.”

  Then, almost like an echo, distorted by the distance: “You can keep what you love, if you give up everything else.”

  He still wasn’t sure where he’d heard the latter quote, and he’d never understood what it was getting at.

  Did it mean that he could save just one person from the fiery pandaemonium—his true love? The thought was disquieting.

  Yet it seemed consistent with the other quote he’d remembered. Flua-Sahng had said that choosing his true love was not a choice that would “change how the world’s long-term future plays out.” That choice “is yours to make,” she’d said.

  Based on that, one thing seemed clear: He could safely try to save at least one person from the fiery destruction—his true love. He could do so by urging her to come to the cryogenics facility on the date the Elements would awaken.

  . . . or could he? What if his true love ended up being Astrid, Lilac or Dahlia? In that case, it wouldn’t be safe to warn anyone here in the breathing world about the impending catastrophe.

  Flua-Sahng’s words played through his head again: “There’s only one point, in your time at Somnus’ Palace, where your choices seem to change how the world’s long-term future plays out. . . . The key moment is the dream where you meet Mercune.”

  Yes. That was the key, he suddenly felt certain. He couldn’t do anything now that might interfere with Mercune’s dream playing out properly in the future. If he were going to warn someone—his true love—he’d have to do it after that dream.

  But how? He’d be in Somnus’ Palace! How in the world could he warn Red or Black or whomever from there?

  Maybe I could visit her dreams and tell her there?

  No, that wouldn’t work. Once he was at Somnus’ Palace, he wouldn’t have his memories from this past week, except during that brief period in Mercune’s dream after he’d crossed into the Mists.

  Worse, I won’t even remember all this when I wake up in a few minutes! He would forget everything about himself being frozen at the cryogenics facility, the way he always did.

  All these thoughts raced through Proto’s head in several seconds after he’d burst through the mist wall. He almost sighed in frustration at how ridiculously complicated everything had to be.

  Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  Then, just in time, a flash of starlight on some red hair brought him back to the moment.

  Mercune’s narrow-eyed scrutiny had just given way to blithe beaming. “Hello there! What brings you out here? Seeing the sights?” She waved toward the surrounding badlands.

  Mind in the game, Proto!

  One last time, he ingrained that key phrase in his memory: “Atlean University Cryogenics Facility = Safe Place.”

  Then, Proto adopted an amiable face. “Oh, I’ve been visiting here a lot lately.”

  “Here? Must get lonely!” Mercune observed, gesturing again toward the empty wastes.

  “You know? Not really.” He smiled sadly. “Not at all.”

  “ . . . oh. Does that mean you want me to go?” asked the redhead teen.

  “Not at all,” he repeated. “I’m not very good at getting around the mists by myself.”

  “Oh? You might say that’s a specialty of mine.” The blithesome girl was back and beaming. “Or an ‘affinity,’ as Gramps likes to say.”

  “Well, thank Lady Luck, since I’m lost out here,” said Proto. “I wish some wise old man would tell me my affinities.”

  “Hm.” Mercune quirked her lips at him thoughtfully. “Well, you’re one of Somnus’ dream visitors, right?”

  “That obvious, huh?” he said.

  “Nope, I’m just that quick!” She made a clicking noise and tapped her temple. “Modesty is also among my many virtues. My affinities.” She giggled. “So, dream visiting! I wish I could do that.”

  “That’d break the rules, right?” recalled Proto.

  “That’s what Flua-Sahng says. ‘You can’t be a seer and a visitor, or you could thwart Fate!’” Mercune recalled in a queenly singsong voice. “You’ve heard of Flua-Sahng, right? Somnus’ mom?”

  Proto couldn’t quite suppress a smile. “I’m familiar with her.”

  “Yeah. Personally, it seems to me that her whole M.O. is thwarting Fate. After all, she visits dreams and she’s a seer, and she does more meddling than an Old Country Grandma. But what do I know?” Mercune mused. “So, I guess that’s one affinity I just can’t have! Dream visiting. Save one for the rest of the world, I guess!”

  “It has its perks,” said Proto. “For example, getting free tours through misty wastelands from knowledgeable guides.”

  “Yes, it’s all about the perks!” agreed Mercune, flipping back her red hair lightly, then tittering. “But I think you’re getting ahead of yourself, Mister.”

  “Oh?”

  She planted her hands on her hips. “You haven’t asked me to guide you yet!”

  “Ah.” Proto suppressed a wince. It was all too easy to forget that, from her perspective, she’d just met him. “Would you be so kind?”

  “I suppose,” sighed Mercune with a teenage eyeroll.

  Then, she tittered. “J/K! Yes, I insist.” And off she went. “It’s all about the perks!” she repeated.

  “What are the other perks?” asked Proto, half-jogging to catch up.

  “Of what? Myself? Besides my knowledgeable guidance and winsome modesty, you mean?” she bantered. “Well! Gramps says I have a ‘talent for physics.’” She wheezed this out warblingly in an old man’s voice. “And I’m good at drawing cats.”

  “You don’t say?” Proto raised his brow in faux-surprise.

  “I do say,” she shrugged with modest bravado. “Guess they had a bunch of extra talents left over when they made me, huh?”

  “Extra affinities?” offered Proto.

  “Yes! Mists, physics, and cats.” Mercune grinned. “Would you like to see me draw a cat?”

  This wasn’t even close to any exchanges Proto had had here before. Technically, in A/B testing, you weren’t supposed to make changes between tests—not unless it was The Change that you were testing. But he’d gradually gotten a sense what sorts of moments here affected the future, and he was pretty sure that none of this banter would change anything. Not without something more.

  “There’s nothing I’d like more,” he answered.

  “Good!” She snapped her fingers, and a sketchbook and pencil misted into being in her other hand. “I’ll do it while walking. And leading us through the mists. She’s multi-talented, folks! Multi-affinitied!” she called to no one in particular. “Also, my name is Mercune.”

  “Proto.”

  “It’s a pleasure, Sir!” replied Mercune, already beginning to draw as she walked. “Yeah, so, you’re here to see the sights? I guess I am too. In a manner of speaking. And I’m here to meet someone.”

  “Someone besides me?” he inquired.

  “Just the Queen of Heaven!” She waved nonchalantly. “Me, my winsome modesty, and the Queen of Heaven. Not the first time, either! Been meeting nightly since I found her Fossil, in fact.”

  Déjà vu tingled through Proto. He suddenly felt he knew what he had to say.

  “What kind of fossil?” he replied. “A bone? A dinosaur fossil?”

  The teenage redhead tilted her head at him.

  Then, she cackled. “Wow! I thought you were serious for a second. Oh, what a face.” She shook her head, then laughed again. “You just called Flua-Sahng a dinosaur. With a straight face!”

  “I guess I’m just a fairly authentic person!” Proto again felt the words rush strangely from the vaults of memory.

  At his words, Mercune paused and looked up from her drawing, peering at him. “Is it possible that I know you? I can’t help feeling that I know you. And not just a little! . . . And then there’s the fact you knew I was a seer earlier.”

  She looked as though she might say more, but instead waited and watched him.

  Proto thought about replying, “We learn about the people we visit in the Shadowcaster. As for whether we’ve met, I live near Atlean University. Are you nearby?”

  But it didn’t feel right. Instead, he just nodded and smiled wistfully. “Anything’s possible.”

  “Anything, huh? Tell that to the Fates!” replied Mercune. “They sure go out of their way to keep some things from happening!” For a fleeting moment, the girl looked sad.

  “Not unless we thwart Fate, right?” suggested Proto.

  “You and Flua-Sahng would get along.” Mercune tsked. “‘Thwart Fate.’ Old Country Grandma!”

  “‘Old Country Grandma,’” he repeated. “It’s a nice alternative to Queen of Heaven.”

  “Isn’t it though! Teach her some modesty. Add that to her many affinities!” She grinned. “But I love her.”

  They resumed walking, and Mercune resumed drawing at the same time. “She’s multi-affinitied, folks!” she mumbled to herself, then giggled.

  Not for the first time, Proto marveled how much the girl had in common with the Queen of Heaven. “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” he murmured.

  Mercune evidently overheard, as she halted and scrutinized him. “Proto, I hope that’s not a comment on our hair color!” she finally said. “Just a couple red apples, huh? Watch it, Buster!”

  Proto laughed and followed her onward, his amusement gradually dwindling to a smile—one weighed down a bit with sorrow. This likely was the second last time he’d ever see the redhead teen. The second last time, unless . . .

  Unless what?

  After a moment, he shook his head. Mind in the game, Proto. First things first, save the future.

  “Not about hair color,” he rejoined lightly. “Just your many affinities.”

  “Ah. Yes.” Mercune gave a prim Mary-Sue-type nod. “Yes, I also have an affinity for spices. And herbs. And ice-cream-and-Disney nights with Shirley and Himari.”

  “And milk bread,” she added. “I looovvveee milk bread. Gramps says it’s too sweet. He says I’ll know I’ve grown up when I start preferring rye. Dark, seedy, nutty, bitter rye.” She wrinkled her nose.

  Proto conjured up a slice of milk bread. “Sweets for the sweet?” he offered politely.

  “Aw.” She received the bread and patted his hand. “Very gentlemanly.”

  Nibbling the bread, she walked about ten more steps, then halted in place. “Alright. You’ve gone and done it now, Mister!”

  Proto blinked. “What have I done this time?”

  “Nothing you’ll regret, unless you’re in a hurry. Or on a diet,” she assured him. “You’ve gone and made me hungry! And now there’s nothing for it but a picnic.”

  “ . . . even though we’re dreaming?” asked Proto.

  “Are you kidding?” she retorted. “Here, I can dream-eat a whole pig and still be hungry. And skinny. It’s a dream come true! And a dream at the same time!”

  “I’m sure the Queen of Heaven won’t mind waiting on a picnic,” said Proto.

  “Right, she’ll understand!” concurred Mercune. “We’re usually on the same page about things. Especially big things like food. And true love. And me, after I eat all this food!”

  Proto couldn’t help but chuckle. “All what food?”

  “Patience, Mister!” She pointed at the ground in front of them and narrowed her eyes.

  Mist swirled up from the floor, forming into vague shapes and solidifying. When it cleared, a picnic spread lay in front of them—a red and green tartan blanket with a large red wicker basket and a green bottle.

  “Sooo?” The green-eyed redhead held her hands proudly toward her creation and waited.

  “Very quaint. Very tasteful. And tasty, I’m sure,” said Proto. “Though I can’t tell if the theme is Christmas or Scotland.”

  “The theme, Sir, is Mercune. Today, we celebrate me!” She beamed, and he could’ve sworn one of her teeth twinkled. Birds and butterflies flapped and fluttered into being, and a few squirrels spontaneously ran up and chittered admiringly.

  “And . . . you.” She pointed, the fauna vanished, and a set of silverware formed. Each piece was shaped like an extremely stiff man in a tracksuit, with his arms pressed tightly to his sides. A raven cawed.

  Proto nodded grimly. “So that’s how it’s going to be, is it?”

  She quirked her lips thoughtfully, then snapped her fingers. The silverware’s tracksuit became green and red. So did Proto’s.

  “Unacceptable!” he complained, as she laughed. “Well, two can play at this.” He pointed at Mercune’s gossamer green tunic, and red frippery laced outward all about it, weaving itself into a dress.

  “Ooh. A gift, for me? I love it!” cried Mercune, spinning and making it swirl. “Have a sandwich, Mister Visitor. It’s on me.”

  She retrieved several little milk bread sandwiches from the wicker basket, each cut into squares, followed by some scones with clotted cream and jam, and then assorted pastries.

  Proto felt a pang of hunger at the sight of those sandwiches—and then a pang of something else. A memory flashed through his mind:

  Lilac unpacked their food and they ate beside the sea. The milk bread sandwich squares and neatly apportioned side courses were simple.

  Sakura blossoms rained upon them as they savored Lilac’s creations quietly. White seagulls flapped across the sky and turned to black silhouettes against the sun.

  “I sometimes wonder what it’s like up there,” she murmured almost inaudibly.

  He looked at her, ready to say something about those winging birds. But her black gaze wasn’t trained on them. She was facing the mists, forming and unforming on the far horizon.

  He shrugged. “Nothing beats this.” He spread his arms toward the scene all around them.

  “Are you sure though?” She looked at him intently.

  He blinked and opened his mouth.

  She tapped one maroon-nailed finger to his lips. “No. Don’t answer that right now.”

  Proto stared at the picnic spread. Once again, he felt like everything he’d lived through lately had two or three meanings, and he could barely keep up with the first one.

  “Mister Visitor? Having indecisiveness issues?” Mercune asked playfully.